Port in A Storm
by digitalfletch
Summary: When a seriously ill Eighth Doctor materializes in her garden, Sarah Jane Smith must find a way to save him.
1. Prologue

Sarah Jane Smith was standing in her kitchen pouring herself a cup of tea when she heard it. A rough heaving and grinding noise, coming through the open window just to her left. Her mind froze. She knew of only one thing in the entire universe that made that sound. The TARDIS, materializing. Here. In her back garden. Now.

The teacup crashed forgotten into the sink as she raced for the door.

By the time she'd made it around the house and into the garden the blue time ship had already fully coalesced into its familiar, solid form, crushing her newly planted petunias. Ignoring a faint twinge of annoyance she trotted briskly towards it, a smile on her lips, shading her eyes against the glare of the late summer sun. It had been over a year since their meeting at the Deffrey Vale school yet, despite the unexpectedly welcome presence of Luke and young Maria Jackson in her life, not a day went by when she didn't miss him fiercely.

Before she could knock on the wooden paneling the door opened under her hand, and a slight figure stood framed in the entrance.

Sarah looked into the face of a stranger. A youngish man dressed in Edwardian clothes, with a long, lean face, a square chin, an impish smile and a mop of unruly curls that cascaded down over his high, old-fashioned collar. But his eyes, a brilliant azure blue – she knew those eyes. They were eyes that had seen the wisdom of the universe, the fall of civilizations and the infinity of stars. He'd regenerated again, but it was still him.

"Hello, Sarah Jane."

It _was_ him. Though she didn't recognize the voice, its tone was one she could never mistake for any other. No one else had ever said her name quite like that.

"Doctor," she breathed, unable to keep from beaming in delight.

Further greeting died on her lips when he suddenly sagged to his knees and pitched face forward into the grass at her feet.


	2. Chapter 1

Sarah sank to her knees beside the Doctor's still form. Her fingers shook as she reached for his wrist to find a pulse, trying not to panic. A sharp sigh of relief escaped her as she felt the familiar double beat, erratic and weak but _there_.

"Doctor!" she called urgently, lightly shaking his shoulders. There was no response. Very gently she took one arm and rolled him over. His head lolled as she settled him onto his back.

She gasped when she saw his face closely for the first time. His eyes were closed, his skin pale and almost translucent. A network of fine black lines radiated just under the skin across his face, far too many to simply be following the pattern of veins. Or at least, the pattern of human veins. She brought her fingers to his cheek, and immediately snatched them back in shock. He was ice cold to the touch.

Something was dreadfully wrong. He was ill, maybe dying. _Oh, god, Doctor. What can I do?_ She bit her lip, fighting to stay calm. His life might depend on her presence of mind now.

Whenever she needed assistance in the past she turned to Mr. Smith, the supercomputer she had created in her attic. But he could be no help with this, nor could the children even if they weren't all three out with Alan at a cinema matinee. And she couldn't rely on human medics to aid him; she knew from hard experience they far were more likely to kill than cure an alien in their midst. Yet she still had one last resource –

Her hand dove into her vest pocket for her sonic lipstick. In an instant she had found the proper setting and sent the signal, then sat back on her heels to wait.

Only a few seconds had passed when she felt the air molecules beside her shift and the grey metal shape of her second-best friend winked into view. "Mistress?"

"K9!" Sarah cried. "The Doctor is ill – I need you to tell me what's wrong with him!"

The robot dog extended his nose probe and gently pressed it against the Doctor's pale skin. His ears whirred as he gathered and processed, until Sarah was on the verge of shouting with impatience.

"Insufficient data, Mistress," he reported finally. "There is no sign of injury or trauma. Apparent symptoms are not consistent with known Gallifreyan illnesses. My sensors detect widespread damage to cellular systems. Pulse and heartrates erratic, lifesigns… waning…"

"No!" Sarah choked in swift denial. This couldn't be happening. It was unfathomable that anything could happen to her Doctor. "We have to help him, K9! If we access the TARDIS medical supplies can you find something that will cure him?"

"Probability low, Mistress. In absence of accurate diagnosis, best chance of success with random medication approximately 0.34 percent."

Frustrated and increasingly fearful, Sarah ran a hand through her hair, grasping for other ideas. "Then what? I need your best recommendation, K9!"

The metal ears whirred. "Suggest removal to Gallifrey at once, Mistress."

"What?"

"Removal to Gallifrey, Mistress, the Doctor's planet of origin. Have highly advanced medical knowledge and are most likely to have the proper resources available to…"

"Yes, yes, alright K9! But how – can you program the coordinates into the TARDIS?" She held her breath. If the answer was no, there would be no hope at all.

"Affirmative, Mistress," K9 replied, and Sarah's heart began to beat again.

"Then do it!" she commanded at once.

"Affirmative, Mistress. Remind that the distortion breech around the black hole is not yet sealed. Time to event horizon destabilization less than three Earth minutes."

"Then _hurry_, K9!"

She picked herself up and began to tug on the Doctor's arm, trying to maneuver his dead weight back into the TARDIS and cursing Alan soundly for not being around when she needed him. What she would give for a rope, or a wheelbarrow…

"Mistress! Event horizon destabilization is reaching critical! I must return to my position at once!"

With a spurt of strength born of desperation she managed to drag the Doctor's limp form across the threshold. "Close the doors, K9!" she called.

"Affirmative, Mistress."

The doors thrummed closed and Sarah sat back with a gasp, pressing one hand over the stitch burning in her side. She was getting too old for this.

"Mistress –"

"Go, K9," she instructed, forcing herself to her feet and stumbling down the steps towards the console. She barely registered that the Doctor had redecorated again, in a soaring, somber Gothic style. Her only focus was on getting him home as quickly as possible.

"Press the large black button on the top of the console, Mistress," K9 intoned as he faded from sight.

"Black button…" she located it and pressed it firmly, sighing in relief as the central column began to rise and fall. They were on their way.

Sarah hurried back to the Doctor's prone body. The fine black lines that webbed across his face were darkening in intensity, and he was beginning to shiver fitfully with cold and shock. Spotting a throw rug draped over the back of a nearby chair, she gathered it up and carefully arranged it over his legs.

Turning to kneel beside his head, she reached down and gingerly placed it in her lap. With a grunt of effort she tugged on his shoulders, pulling him upright until he was half-propped, half-sprawled against her. Then she reached her arms around his waist from behind and hugged him to her as tightly as she could.


	3. Chapter 2

Sarah sat in the console room holding the Doctor, transferring the heat of her body to his as she watched the time rotor rise and fall hypnotically. _How far was it to Gallifrey?_ she wondered. _How long?_

They had been in flight for an indeterminable amount of time, somewhere between fifteen minutes and what seemed like a month and a half. The dial on her special wrist chronometer spun uselessly, overwhelmed no doubt by the flow of temporal energy all around them.

She had always wanted to see Gallifrey – but not under circumstances like this.

Her mind whirled, thoughts spinning around and around. Wondering what had happened to the Doctor, when he had regenerated – would this, whatever it was, force him to regenerate again? And where were Rose and Mickey? How could they have left him when he needed them most?

She hugged him close, as if the loving circle of her arms could be enough to protect him from whatever might come. But protect him she would, to the utmost of her ability…whatever the consequences, whatever the cost. Her Doctor – he had always been more precious to her than life.

All those years she had been alone, and she thought he must have died… But even then, a part of her held fast to a shred of hope that he was still out there somewhere in the universe, still recklessly sticking his nose into trouble, still fighting the good fight with nothing but his powers of persuasion, his sonic screwdriver and a handful of jelly babies. If she lost him now…even though she had Luke, had Maria and her father and Clyde, she knew a part of her would die with him.

They would get there in time, she told herself over and over again. Her back and knees ached, and she could feel the cold from the Doctor's body seeping into her bones. It was like hugging an icicle, but he was no longer shaking with chill so she refused to consider releasing him for even an instant.

All at once she felt him stir against her. His head tilted up, and she found herself staring into a pair of sea blue eyes, pain-clouded but lit with recognition. "Sarah," his voice was a ragged murmur. "Help me."

Her breath caught, and before she could form a response his eyes slid shut and his head drooped down onto her shoulder. Sarah swallowed against a sudden lump in her throat and pressed her lips to his blonde-brown curls.

"I'm here, Doctor," she whispered into his hair. "I'll help you. I promise."

She leaned back a little on her heels, trying to make him a tiny bit more comfortable, and then looked up to find that the motion of the time rotor had stilled.

They had landed.

Sarah eased the Doctor's body to the floor and scrambled to her feet. Cold and stiff muscles protesting, she made her way to the console. As she drew close she spotted a monitor above her head displaying the welcome words 'Gallifrey 33929, Rassilon Era'.

"Oh, well done, K9," she breathed. They'd made it. She threw a glance back over her shoulder at the Doctor's motionless form and prayed that they'd made it in time. Her hand hovered over the levers and switches on the front of the console as she tried to decide which might operate the door mechanism. The largest one, she guessed, and threw it decisively.

The instant the heavy doors began to swing open Sarah returned to the Doctor's body, kneeling once again by his side and gathering up one icy hand in her own. She waited with desperate eagerness until her straining ears detected a jumble of footsteps coming towards them from without, and shortly a tall, dark-haired woman wearing a light blue robe and carrying an ornately carved staff strode into the TARDIS. Four red-suited, helmeted guards, energy weapons holstered at their sides, followed on her heels.

The woman stopped short a few meters from where Sarah knelt, her cold brown eyes sweeping the room, taking in the tableau before her.

"I am Castellan Valeria. What is the meaning of this unauthorized intrusion?" she asked in a deep, authoritative voice.

"This is the Doctor," Sarah replied quickly, motioning to him. She'd rehearsed her words carefully on the way so as to convey as much information as she could in the minimum possible time. "He's a Time Lord – he's very ill and needs immediate medical attention."

"You are an alien." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Well, yes," Sarah admitted with reluctance, remembering the Doctor telling her how xenophobic his people were. "But that's hardly important now. Don't you see, he may be dying! I don't know what's happened to him but he's as cold as ice and there are these dark lines just beneath his skin –"

The tall woman pulled a thin device the size of a cell phone from the belt at her waist and waved it over the Doctor's body. She frowned at whatever the screen was reporting, and tapped her jaw just below her left ear. "Medical unit – this is the Castellan. Prepare a pallet in the isolation chamber," she said into thin air, and Sarah realized she must have been communicating remotely via an implant beneath her skin.

The Castellan slid the scanner back into her belt. "He will be seen to. You, meanwhile," she said dismissively to Sarah, "are under arrest for unauthorized entry into Gallifreyan space-time and will be taken for detention until such time your case can be evaluated by the High Council."

"What? No, wait, please!" Sarah tightened her grip on the Doctor's lifeless hand. "I'm no threat. Please let me stay with him –"

The Castellan reached down and took her by the shoulder. "I'm afraid I must insist."

She shook her head violently, resisting the taller woman's efforts to pull her away. The Doctor needed her. She had promised she would help him. "No! I must stay with him!"

The Time Lady motioned to the red-suited guards. "Remove her."

"No!" Sarah shouted as they moved towards her. She fought them furiously, and in the end it took three of them together to force her away from him the Doctor's body. Just as she heard the tall woman say, "Two for immediate transport," she felt a sharp sting at the base of her throat, and the world went black.


	4. Chapter 3

Sarah awoke with a start, one hand darting to rub a tender spot at the base of her throat. She'd been drugged. Feeling groggy as well as stiff and sore she stared around her at a small, well furnished but windowless room. What had – suddenly the memories crashed back into her mind, like a flood of ice water dousing her.

The Doctor! Gallifrey! They'd taken him! She levered herself off the bulky sofa on which she'd been laid and made a beeline for the massive door that was the only evident exit.

There was no handle, only an ornate keypad inset to one side. She pressed it and waited, fidgeting with impatience. Absolutely nothing happened. Naturally.

She reached into her vest pocket – but her sonic lipstick was gone. Biting back a groan, she pounded on the door with her clenched fists. "Hello? Open up out there! You don't understand, please – I must speak with someone immediately!"

The massive door, which looked as though it had been hewn from something at least as thick as oak, was so dense that she wasn't even certain anyone on the other side could hear her. Still she banged and pounded and shouted until her hands were red and her voice was hoarse – to no avail.

She stalked back to the couch and tried to sit, but a second later was on her feet again, unable to relax even for a moment while worry for the Doctor consumed her heart and mind.

Instead she paced restlessly back and forth in front of the door as her frustration and anxiety mounted. She had promised to help him, to take care of him, and here she was, caged and impotent. She had to think. Think!

Why had he come to her? If K9 was right, and there was nothing in the TARDIS medical unit that could cure him, why hadn't he returned to Gallifrey himself for help? Instead he'd set the coordinates for Bannerman Road, Ealing, Earth. Flattering as it was, there must have been a practical reason. Was it for something she had? Something she knew?

Without warning the heavy door suddenly boomed inward, causing her to jump backward in surprise. Two red-clad guards with flowing white cloaks marched into the room, their boots clicking on the marble floor.

The guard to Sarah's right halted a few meters from her, stared straight ahead, and announced, "Madame President Romanadvoratrelundar of the High Council of Time Lords!"

The guards turned smartly to flank the entryway as a queenly figure swept into the room. She was very slim, only about Sarah's size, but richly dressed in a golden gown and an ornate high collar that swept up in a fan shape over the back of her head. Straight blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her light blue eyes radiated a probing, restless intelligence. Although small in stature, her regal, imperial bearing made her seem far more grand and imposing.

In her younger days Sarah would have found herself thoroughly intimidated by such a majestic figure, the leader of one of the most powerful civilizations in the universe. But just now she was far too worried to be daunted and far too jaded to be awed.

"What's happened to the Doctor?" she demanded peremptorily of the woman, not caring if she was breaking or completely destroying some important Time Lord protocol. At the moment introductions, bows and ritual greetings were far down the list of her concerns.

The Time Lady didn't seem to mind. Instead, a pair of fine blonde eyebrows rose. "I was about to ask you the same question."

Sarah's shoulders slumped. "I don't know. The TARDIS just appeared, out of the blue – and when the door opened he fell out unconscious."

"Then you're not his…traveling companion?"

Sarah started. How could the President of Gallifrey possibly know about that? Long ago the Doctor had told her that his people never allowed such a thing. She shook her head. "I was, once. But not…for a long time, now. Half a lifetime, for me, and…I think, perhaps even longer for him."

The President's lips pursed. "You're from Earth, I presume," she said with a touch of hauteur. "Why would he have come to you? Are you a physician, a healer of some kind?"

"No," she denied quickly. "I'm not. And I've been asking myself that very same thing. Madame…Madame President –"

"Call me Romana," the Time Lady instructed. "The Doctor does." A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Then you know the Doctor?" Despite the constant worry that continued to gnaw away at her insides, Sarah's spirits lifted a little. If the President of Gallifrey knew the Doctor, then there was every reason to hope she might help him.

Romana's smile widened into a girlish grin that suddenly made her seem almost human. "Oh yes. I too traveled with him for a time. That's why I'm here now."

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Sarah pleaded.

"A poison. Of Gallifreyan origin, one that's only effective on a Time Lord. In the days before Rassilon, such poisons were the weapons of choice among the various Houses. Each House made their own specific types, hundreds of thousands of them each with it's own biochemical composition." She sighed, frustration showing in her face for the first time. "Even with the use of the Matrix, it won't be possible to match all the possible chemical combinations against the poison in the Doctor's blood before it's too late."

Sarah blanched. "What will happen to him?" she queried tentatively, afraid to ask but even more afraid not to know.

"The poison attacks the cardiovascular system, until the victim's circulation shuts down and his hearts literally stop beating."

"Will he – will he regenerate?"

Romana blinked, trying to hide her surprise that this human woman was aware of the unique Time Lord ability. She shook her head sadly. "No. It suspends the regenerative capacity. I'm afraid that was one of the main reasons such poisons were created – they are the perfect weapons against a Time Lord enemy."

Somberly she regarded the human standing before her. "Now, Ms. –"

"Smith. Sarah Jane Smith," Sarah supplied in a faint voice. She was still reeling from everything Romana had told her, her mind unable to take it all in. If he was unable to regenerate…her thoughts recoiled from even considering the inevitable consequence that would follow.

"Ms. Smith. Listen to me – ah, hello?"

With a conscious effort of will Sarah forced herself to focus on the Time Lady.

"Yes, sorry…"

"If we're to have any chance of saving the Doctor, we must determine the exact identity of the poison that was used. Did you and the Doctor encounter any Time Lords in your journeys together? It's very important that you try to remember."

Sarah nodded. There was no question of having to _try_ to remember. Every adventure she'd shared with the Doctor was crystal clear in her mind, as though they had taken place yesterday instead of thirty years in her past. "Yes, several," she said quickly. "There was K'anpo Rinpoche – but he was a kind old monk – and…" her blood ran cold. "Morbius," she said in a faint whisper.

"Morbius?" Romana frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"Yes," Sarah nodded. "On a planet called…Karn. We met a scientist, Solon, who had Morbius's brain in a, in a jar in his laboratory. He was creating Morbius a new body – from salvaged body parts, like a horrible Frankenstein monster, and he wanted the Doctor's head."

"Morbius!" Romana exclaimed, finally placing the name. A former Gallifreyan criminal. "But he was executed!"

"Solon said his brain survived," Sarah told her, still remembering aloud. "He put it in a new body and Morbius challenged the Doctor to a duel – a…a mind-bending contest – but the Doctor defeated him and the Sisterhood drove him over a cliff to his death."

"That must be it!" Romana cried excitedly, activating her sub-epidural link. "Physician Thurian, this is the President. You must immediately test all known poisons originating from the House of Morbius."

They waited. After a short silence, less than Sarah anticipated, Romana raised her head sharply and cocked her head, listening. Her eyes met Sarah's, who was staring at her intensely with a mixture of nervous dread and painful hope in her gaze.

"Yes," she reported to Sarah, "we have a match. Thurian and his staff are already beginning to synthesize an antidote."

Sarah expelled a pent-up breath, a little of the tension ebbing from her body.

"Let's just hope we've found the solution before it's too late." Romana started for the door, motioning her escorts ahead of her. "As soon as I have more information I'll send someone to inform you. In the meantime, I'll see what I can do about getting the charges against you dropped."

As she turned to leave Sarah reached out one hand, not quite touching the Time Lady but seeking to slow her progress. She didn't care a single iota about herself, but she couldn't bear not knowing the Doctor's fate. "Wait, Romana, please – is he going to be all right?"

Romana looked away, not meeting her eyes. "I'm afraid it's far too early to say."

Instantly all of Sarah's earlier tension returned, and she felt a sharp stab of fear like a knife in her gut. She balled her hands into fists and shoved them under her elbows to keep them from trembling. "Can I see him?" she asked in a small voice.

The Time Lady hesitated, and then shook her head. "I'm sorry. We have a very strict policy forbidding the admittance of off-worlders into the Citadel."

"Please," Sarah begged, ready to get down on her knees if it would make the slightest bit of difference to the regal and imperious woman standing before her. "Please."

Romana paused, considering. She would catch all kinds of hell from the Castellan for even considering the human woman's request, but there was something about her poignant concern for the Doctor's wellbeing that touched a chord in Romana's hearts. And after all, Ms. Smith's knowledge of the Doctor's encounter with Morbius and her timely arrival with him here on Gallifrey might yet make the difference in whether he lived or died.

Finally she nodded, noting the look of intense relief that flooded the Earth woman's eyes. "Come with me."


	5. Chapter 4

Afterwards Sarah would remember little of the trip across the Citadel from the detention area to the chamber where the Doctor was being treated, only that it involved navigating an interminable number of grey corridors filled with somber men and women in robes and high collars, all of whom seemed to walk at a glacial pace. They moved agreeably aside for the President and her entourage, but it still seemed to Sarah that she had aged several years before they arrived at a large sterile complex that she supposed was the Gallifreyan equivalent of a medical center.

An elderly figure in a grey and white robe was emerging from a room at one end of a long corridor.

"Physician Thurian!" Romana greeted him as they approached.

He bowed slightly. "Madame President."

"How is the patient?"

"Still in critical condition," he reported. He spoke to Romana but his eyes slid sideways to glance appraisingly at the Time Lady's companion. When no explanation as to her presence was forthcoming he continued, "We're keeping him as warm as possible to counteract the effect of the toxins."

"I – I used my body heat to keep him as warm as I could on the way here," Sarah put in, her chin held high, undaunted by the scrutiny.

"Then you may have saved his life," the physician told her with grudging approval. "We have just begun to administer the antidote," he added to Romana. "If all goes well he should begin to recover soon."

"Thank you," Romana said as she and Sarah exchanged relieved looks.

"Yes, Madame President," he replied with a nod of his grey head. He bowed again. "If you will excuse me, I have other patients to attend to."

"Of course." With a wave of her elegant hand Romana dismissed him and then motioned Sarah to follow her inside.

Sarah slipped through the door behind the Time Lady, passed through an enclosed antechamber that Romana informed her was an automatic molecular decontamination area, and stared around her at the interior chamber. They were standing in a small, circular room with rows of exotic equipment stacked neatly along the walls and a single prone figure lying bathed in a pool of light at the very center.

Her eyes were drawn to him as though by a magnet. He lay uncovered but fully clothed on a long pallet with a series of rectangular tubes running along the edges and a large control panel bristling with knobs and dials at the base. As she drew close she detected the presence of a purplish aura that covered his body from head to foot, dancing a few millimeters above his skin. She threw an anxious, questioning glance at Romana, who had moved to stand before the control panel.

"It's a detoxification field, nothing to be concerned about," the Time Lady told her, her keen gaze sweeping over the data presented on the Doctor's console readouts. She frowned. There was something about these readings that seemed –

Suddenly a piercing alarm rang out, ripping right through Sarah's overtaxed nervous system. "What is it?" she cried to Romana, whose hands were racing over the dials on the control console.

The Time Lady shook her head, and just then the door flew open. The room began to fill with white-garbed medics who hurried to surround the pallet where the Doctor lay.

Sarah stumbled back, the crowd of people parting around her, until her back touched the wall behind her. Unconsciously one hand lifted to cover her mouth, smothering an inarticulate cry of protest. _No! This wasn't right – he was supposed to be getting better!_

"His dextral heart has stopped," she heard Physician Thurian announce, and the blood in her veins turned to ice. "He's going into arrest!"

Sarah felt her own heart seem to stop. Through eyes huge with terror she watched the medical team burst into action. Various pieces of equipment were rushed into the center of the room and a jumble of probes and other hardware attached to the Doctor's head and torso.

It was excruciating to watch, unable to do anything to help him.

"Give him a cardio pulse – now!" the medic ordered, and a metal disc the size of a pound coin was immediately placed over the right side of the Doctor's chest. It flashed brightly, once, then a second time.

"No response. Try again."

The activity around the Doctor's pallet redoubled. Sarah couldn't see what they were doing to him any more, but Romana's face where she stood at the base of the Doctor's pallet had gone a pasty white.

"Again – we're losing him!"

Sick with horror, Sarah sagged against the wall as her legs threatened to give way beneath her. Fear pierced her heart, clawing its way up her throat and threatening to choke her. The Doctor was so infinitely dear to her – it was impossible to imagine the universe without him. If there were some way that at this very moment she could trade her life for his, she would do it without a second's hesitation.

Yet she still clung stubbornly to hope. In their time together the Sontarons hadn't been able to kill him, nor the Daleks or Cybermen or Krynoids or antimatter monsters. Nor even Sutekh the Destroyer, who had had the powers of a god. He would survive this, too. He must.

_Come on, Doctor,_ she willed silently, fiercely, summoning up every ounce of her human determination, resilience and defiance and projecting them in his direction. _Don't give up on me now._

Then Romana's head rose abruptly, her probing blue eyes searching out Sarah Jane's. "We've done it! We've got him back."

Sarah buried her face in her hands as the sheer intensity of her relief overcame her. He was _alive_.

The crisis had passed. For now.


	6. Chapter 5

The room was once again silent, and empty except for Sarah, Romana and the pale, motionless form of the Doctor. Sarah was sure she had just lived through the longest thirty minutes of her life. With the Doctor out of immediate danger the medical team had returned to their other duties, permitting her to return to his side at last.

She approached the pallet with trepidation. He looked so still, and she was half-afraid that… For a ridiculous instant she wished for the comforting sound of a heart monitor to reassure her that he was still alive. She swallowed past the lump that had risen in her throat. "Can I…touch him?"

Romana looked up from her careful monitoring of the Doctor's vital signs and smiled a little with her eyes. "Yes, it's perfectly safe now."

Sarah nodded hesitantly and reached through the healing aura for his hand, leaning her hip against side of the pallet to take some of the weight off her aching feet.

"Here." Romana pressed a button on the control panel and a round seat like a bar stool slid out from beneath the pallet at just the right height for a bedside chair.

"Thank you," Sarah said, perching on it and tenderly cradling the Doctor's fingers in her own. They were strong and fine, like a surgeon's. She'd always loved his hands, through every incarnation. They were the hands of a scientist. The hands of a lover. What she'd dreamed of them doing to her…

Those dreams, those fantasies, had become part of the distant past, muted by all her many years alone. But the truth was that she'd always loved him – present or absent, he had always been the center of her world. And now she might outlive him. She never imagined that fate might be so cruel. Sarah closed her eyes and shook her head sharply, fighting to retain her composure, holding on to him tightly so that he wouldn't slip away from her.

Taking a liberty she never would have dared had he been awake, she lifted his hand to her lips and placed a reverent kiss on each knuckle in turn. Then she pressed them to her chest, against her solitary heart.

"Don't leave me, Doctor," she whispered to him, heedless of the Time Lady standing nearby. "You're going to beat this, you must. Take my strength, Doctor, take my heart. It's always been yours."

Romana stood at the foot of the Doctor's pallet, the data from his medical bio-signature momentarily forgotten as she regarded the human woman, who had not moved from the Doctor's side and was making no attempt to hide her anxiety and distress. Sometimes she envied humans, who were so open with their feelings.

She herself was terribly fond of the Doctor, especially this incarnation – far more so than the bounds of Gallifreyan society permitted. She tried to follow his travels as best she could from the virtual perspective of the Matrix, and always looked forward to his occasional appearance back here on his home planet, despite the fact he never failed to bring chaos trailing in his wake.

She smiled internally as she permitted herself to briefly revive memories of her journeys with the Doctor. The search for the Key to Time, Atrios, Paris, E-Space… She'd changed so much and achieved so much since those times of carefree wandering, but nonetheless they were still the best years of her lives.

Unfortunately personal attachments were considered archaic among Time Lords, and far beneath the dignity of the President of the High Council. So she hid her emotions behind a wall of reason and duty, and tried not to envy those who had the freedom and the luxury to indulge in their expression. Like the humans. Sometimes she could almost understand why they were the Doctor's favorite species.

There was something about this human woman in particular, this Sarah Jane Smith. Though she was long past the prime of life for one of her kind, she'd displayed great courage and resourcefulness in bringing the Doctor back here to Gallifrey. And there was a calm strength about her, a warm and steadfast devotion, that just now might prove beneficial to the ailing Time Lord. She might be able help him in such a way as Romana herself wanted to, but could not.

"Continue speaking to him," she encouraged. "On a subconscious level his neurological pathways may be able to respond to your voice."

"Do you think so?" The expression on Sarah's face was agonizingly hopeful.

"It's quite possible. It would appear the bond between the two of you is very strong."

Sarah stared, her mouth opening but unable to form words. What could she say to that? What would _he_ say? There was no question that she was forever his, but for his part… Rose had said that he never mentioned her name, and yet after their most recent parting she recognized he hadn't forgotten her or the deep affection that had once pulsed like a lifeline between them. And he had come to her now, in this time of desperation. That too counted for something. Her gaze dropped to her hand where it lay on the pallet, her fingers still entwined with his. Licking her lips, she settled on, "I've always thought so, yes."

Her gaze returned to the Doctor's still face. If he could hear her, if her words might help him find his way back to her, then talk she would. "Come on, Doctor," she entreated, deliberately injecting a playful note into her voice. "You can't be lying around now, not with all of Gallifrey to show me. And you must come back to Earth and meet Luke. He's my adopted teenage son, created by the Bane if you can believe that. I never imagined myself as a parent before, but – he's amazing. And then there's Maria, my thirteen-year-old neighbor. You'll love her. She's got plenty of spunk, that one. Her dad's taking it all quite well, but her mum thinks I'm quite mad."

She chattered on, about her new occupation as a sort of Earth-bound ambassador to aliens and her encounters with the Gorgon and the Slitheen and the Cult of the Tin Pralix, until finally her nervous energy wore down and she glanced at Romana with a helpless expression.

"His vital signs are stabilizing. He's beginning improve," the Time Lady noted, looking at Sarah Jane with new respect. The bond between she and the Doctor must be strong indeed, for him to respond so quickly to her presence.

Sarah returned a slight nod, a seed of hope sprouting in her heart. She had been far too frightened to yet feel fully reassured, but nonetheless clutched at the straws of good news like a drowning woman grasping for a lifeline.

"Here, have something to eat," Romana offered. She moved to Sarah's side and held out a handful of soft brown gels, each about the size and shape of a walnut.

Sarah accepted the proffered protein gels without enthusiasm. Even though it had been hours since she'd last eaten, she had no appetite. Her stomach was tied up in knots from stress and given her current state of trepidation even the finest cuisine would taste like ashes in her mouth. But she knew she had to keep up her strength if she was to help the Doctor regain his. "Thank you," she said politely, sliding one into her mouth.

"You're welcome," the Time Lady replied. As she slipped her hands back into the oversized sleeves of her robe, each of which contained a pouch capable of secreting all sorts of odds and ends, her fingers brushed a cylindrical metal object. She drew it out with a slight smile.

"Oh, I've been meaning to return this," she said, holding up Sarah's sonic lipstick.

Sarah's face lit with pleasure. In addition to its incredible usefulness in her day-to-day chaotic, alien-filled life, the Doctor had given it to her and on those grounds alone she would have been loath to part with it.

"Very clever, by the way," Romana added as she handed it over.

"I find it more practical than carrying a screwdriver," Sarah said dryly and secreted it back into its usual place in her vest pocket. "It's been –"

She stopped abruptly as Romana suddenly raised a finger in warning, clearly listening to a remote communiqué.

"I'm sorry," she said to Sarah after a pause, "I'm being informed I have duties that demand my immediate attention. Of course you may stay," she added before Sarah could get the words out. "I'll have to leave a guard posted –"

Sarah shrugged in response to Romana's apologetic look. She didn't care if there were a hundred guards, so long as she could stay by his side. "Romana? Thank you," she called over her shoulder, sensing that the Time Lady was probably breaking a great number of rules in permitting her to remain.

Romana glanced back at her with a sympathetic gaze. "Look after him," she said.

A solemn nod. "I will."


	7. Chapter 6

Hours later Sarah was woken from a fitful sleep by the feather-light touch of fingers brushing over her hair. She lifted her head from where it had come to rest on the Doctor's vest, and found his eyes – his open eyes – gazing groggily into hers.

"Sarah," he whispered hoarsely. "My Sarah Jane. I knew you'd save me."

Sarah threw her head back, breathing in sharply and blinking back tears of gratitude and relief that threatened to overwhelm her. Despite her best efforts they begin to slide noiselessly down her face and she looked away, trying to staunch the flow. How silly that she was crying now when her heart wanted to shout for joy.

She felt the Doctor's hand reach up to cup her cheek, the pad of his thumb gently wiping the moisture away from her warm skin. She smiled at him tremulously and turned her head a fraction, pressing a fervent kiss into his palm.

His eyes widened into an expression of startled pleasure and an answering grin played at his lips. It faded as quickly as it came, and his eyes slipped shut as he faded back into unconsciousness. But now she could see that the dark lines that had marred his skin were fading, and his hand in her own was warmer than before. Reassured by that and by the slow rise and fall of his chest, she laid her head one more against his side and slept.


	8. Chapter 7

The next time the Doctor returned to consciousness he felt fractionally less woozy and disoriented. The first time he had briefly woken he hadn't registered much besides the fact that he was back on Gallifrey and that the cardiotoxin was no longer overwhelming his system. Now that he was slightly more alert he could better gauge his body's current state and rate of recovery. _Let's see. _Cognitive activity reduced but not impaired, that was good news at least. But hearts' rate and blood pressure were still dangerously low, and cellular damage was widespread. Yet the effects of the toxin were slowly being reversed, and although it would take some time for his tissue infrastructure to be fully repaired, it seemed likely now that he would make a full recovery.

And all thanks due to Sarah Jane, who was asleep again in nearly the same position as before with her head resting on his side and one hand holding his. He looked down at her fondly, careful to remain still so as not to disturb her rest. It was so good to see her again.

She was ferociously loyal and resourceful and magnificent and had managed to worm her way into his hearts as no one else had ever done. He'd missed her so, hated having to leave her behind those many years ago. He'd told himself at the time that he had to let her go, before the pain of separating would become too great for either of them to bear. But she always remained in his hearts, no matter how many times he sternly told himself to shut the door on his past. He could go years without thinking of her, and then all of a sudden he would see an Andy Pandy outfit or a striking woman a devoted, generous soul, and he would be overwhelmed with a very un-Time Lord like feeling of nostalgia and loss.

In fact he was quite certain he'd seen something of Sarah Jane in Grace Holloway – the same courage, the same fire. Perhaps that was why he'd felt to drawn to the American doctor after his regeneration. He hoped so, anyway. He didn't really think that, even in this body, he usually went round kissing complete strangers in parks. Parks, and Italian gardens…

"Oranges," he blurted.

Sarah lifted her head, blinking at him blearily. "What? Doctor!" she cried happily at seeing him awake. "Oh, my back," she groaned.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, hesitating and then reaching out one hand to lightly brush back some limp tendrils of hair from his forehead.

Her touch felt so good he almost forgot that he should say something in reply. "Better," he managed. "Better."

Her lips curved upward in response, and the Doctor found himself staring. After all this time he was still captivated by her heartwarming smile.

Her face was more grown-up looking than he remembered, lined with experience and maturity that gave it great depth of character. And if the expression in her eyes was a little more wary, a little more guarded than it had been in the past, they nonetheless still shone with the same bright intelligence and dauntless spirit that he remembered and cherished.

Just then the door to the isolation chamber hissed open and two of the Castellan's guards entered. They stopped just inside the doorway and one cleared his throat loudly. Then again, finally claiming the attention of the two people in the center of the room. Their eyes moved to him and he motioned Sarah towards him with a wave of his arm.

With an apologetic smile she gave the Doctor's hand a quick squeeze and released it, and then crossed the room to stand before the guard.

The Doctor's eyes followed her with ill-disguised concern, as a visit from the Castellan's retinue rarely heralded good news. The guard dwarfed her in size but she drew herself up and crossed her arms, showing no sign of intimidation or fear. _Good girl,_ the Doctor thought to himself. From where he lay he could just barely make out what was being said between them.

"Yes?"

"Ms. Smith, my orders are to escort you from the medical center at once."

"But why?" he heard Sarah ask in surprise.

"The High Council insists that you are to be returned the Doctor's Type 40 capsule until such time as he recovers or new events warrant reconsideration of your case. By special dispensation you may be allowed restricted access to certain areas of the Citadel, but only when in the presence of the President herself."

He could clearly hear the dismay in her voice. "But…"

"I'm afraid the High Council insists," the guard repeated, more firmly this time.

_The High Council insists, indeed_, the Doctor thought angrily. He would get up and go tell them precisely what they could do with their demands. But his body was as limp and feeble as a wet dishrag and refused to obey his instructions. The poison that wracked his system had caused so much cellular carnage that every ounce of his remaining energy was being channeled into repairing the damage. Summoning all of his considerable willpower he managed to raise himself onto one elbow, trying to fight the dizziness that made the room spin around him like a top.

And suddenly she was at his side again, placing a hand against his shoulder and firmly pressing him back down onto the pallet. "Ssssh, Doctor, don't," she pleaded. "I'll be all right, don't worry about me. Just heal, please - heal."

After a moment he nodded, weakly, reluctant to admit defeat.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he meekly replied. He was already losing his fight to remain conscious, and he'd rather face a horde of rampaging Yeti than an angry Sarah Jane Smith.

"All right, then." She leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his brow, then nodded to the guards and allowed them to escort her from the room.

The Doctor watched them leave, attempting to ignore a palpable sense of loss. Resigning himself to healing alone, he closed his eyes and wiggled around on the pallet, trying to get comfortable. His skin was still unusually cold, but his forehead where her lips had touched was warm.


	9. Chapter 8

"So that's how the TARDIS was able to materialize directly in the Citadel," Romana exclaimed. "Your K9 programmed the coordinates and sent the proper authorization codes for you to pass through the transduction barrier."

She was standing outside the isolation chamber waiting for the Doctor to be released from care, listening to Sarah recount how she had managed to get to Gallifrey. She would have much preferred to be waiting comfortably in her office, but the Castellan had put her foot down firmly against the idea of allowing a non-Gallifreyan into the inner sanctum of the President, no matter how close a personal friend she was claimed to be. Although Romana didn't see what difference it made at this juncture – because Sarah Jane Smith would never be allowed to remember this day, or for that matter any of the time that she spent on Gallifrey. She had seen so much that was forbidden to off-worlders, and allowing her to take that knowledge away with her opened the planet to a vulnerability that could be exploited by any of their many enemies. The High Council would rightly insist that it was an unthinkable security risk, and Romana would have to see to it that Ms. Smith's memories were carefully wiped before she returned home.

"Yes," Sarah nodded as she paced restlessly in a small circle, oblivious to the train of the Time Lady's thoughts. With Romana's duties having prevented her from escorting Sarah back to the medical center, she'd been forced to spend the past few days in the TARDIS, re-reading H.G. Wells and trying not to fret. She hadn't seen the Doctor again since he'd woken that second time, and was missing him more than she thought possible. "I can't believe you had a K9 as well. And that you traveled with the same incarnation that I did. All teeth and curls –"

"And that scarf!" Romana added. "I hated that scarf. It was dreadfully impractical."

"I loved it," said Sarah with a sigh. It had made him seem invulnerable. Invincible. She glanced at the isolation chamber door. But of course, he wasn't. Once again he had come so near to death… "Romana, were you…were you there when he regenerated? That one, I mean…the one we traveled with?"

Romana shook her head. "No, we'd parted company by then. He'd introduced me to the universe, but I wanted to see more of it for myself, learn about things on my own. Well, with K9, anyway. But he told me later that he'd fallen to his death, and that somehow he'd actually foreseen the event."

"When Time Lords regenerate," Sarah probed curiously, the investigative journalist in her coming to the fore, "do you always appear physically younger than before? I mean, if it isn't too personal a question. It's just that each one of the Doctors I've met has looked younger than the last."

"No," Romana said. "I expect that's just a coincidence." Normally she wouldn't dream of sharing this sort of privileged information about Time Lord biology with a human. But there was really no harm in discussing it under these particular circumstances, and with Leela largely absent from the Capitol these days she found she missed having someone to talk to about the Doctor. "When our bodies begin to wear out, we have the ability to choose the next form we take. Unless the regenerative process is prematurely forced in some way, like in a near-death experience. Then the cellular restoration processes use up the body's remaining energy, and there's no control over the physical outcome." She sighed. "That's what always seems to happen to the Doctor."

"So what was the next one like?" Sarah persisted, intrigued. She was burning with such questions about the Doctor, and might never have the opportunity to ask them again.

"Ah, now that one _was_ young-looking, but much older inside. Actually quite responsible, his fifth self," she said approvingly. "He was sensible and prudent, not so prone as the others to rush right into a crisis. He had a good run, but ultimately gave his life in order to save his companion who had been poisoned."

Sarah's heart clenched. How like the Doctor. She felt sad and a bit envious all at once.

"I didn't know the next one well at all, but I hear he was quite a bit like his earliest incarnation. Apparently he could be quite bombastic and arrogant, but his hearts were always in the right places." Romana frowned. "The one after that was something of an enigma, even to me. Called himself Time's Champion. He was always playing games with time, rolling dice with the universe. But he could see so much further ahead than any of the rest of us, and his plans almost always worked out in the end…"

"And?" Sarah prompted, continuing to restlessly pace. Was that Physician ever going to let the Doctor go?

"Ironically enough he was shot, somewhere on Earth I think. He's never really said much about it. Already four regenerations in so short a time," mused Romana a bit sadly. "I can hardly believe it, but in Earth terms the Doctor can't be much more than 900 years old."

Sarah stopped in her tracks. Surely Romana was mistaken. "Four regenerations? That's all?"

The Time Lady nodded.

"You mean this isn't his eleventh –"

Romana shook her head. "This is his eighth and most recent edition, I'm certain of it," she said positively.

Sarah leaned back in surprise, lacing her fingers together as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. "But the one I met last year – he said half a dozen regenerations – _must_ have been the tenth. You're sure you haven't met a later him?"

Romana shook her head again.

"But, then why didn't he – oh," Sarah caught herself abruptly, placing her fingers over her lips. "I suppose I shouldn't say any more."

A small part of Romana's mind was impressed, pleased that the human understood the perils of violating causality. The other, much larger part was racing along an entirely different track. If what she was seeing foreshadowed in the Matrix was true, then the Great War was coming, the end of Gallifrey and the Time Lords drawing near. And she had seen the Doctor, his current incarnation, there with her at the very end. But if Ms. Smith had met a later version…if somehow the Doctor survived…then he might be the last of their people, the only one who remembered…

At the same time light bulbs were beginning to go on for Sarah, who hadn't gotten anything coherent out of the still woozy Doctor before she'd been unceremoniously removed from his bedside. So this Doctor was an _earlier_ incarnation than the one she'd met at Deffrey Vale, which accounted for whyRose and Mickey weren't with him – and why the TARDIS interior once again looked different.

Right, then, it explained some things, but it also raised one gigantic, looming question. The tenth him, the one she'd met last year – _Why didn't he remember me?_ Sarah wondered to herself. There was no question in her mind that day in the school that he thought he was seeing her for the first time since he'd left her in Aberdeen all those years before. _Why -_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the alien in question, bounding energetically into the corridor as though he'd never been sick a day in his life, never mind having been at death's door just a few days before.

"Romana!" he exclaimed happily, enveloping the startled Time Lady in a quick hug. "How good to see you again!"

"Good to see you too, Doctor," Romana returned with a bemused laugh. A faint pink flush tinged her cheeks.

Then he reached out and tenderly took Sarah's hands in his. "And Sarah Jane – as beautiful as ever."

Sarah gaped at him, wondering darkly if he was teasing her. She was long past beautiful now, if she ever had been, and even thirty years ago when she was in her prime he never mentioned her physical appearance unless it was to criticize her choice of footwear. But the expression in his blue eyes was guileless and sincere, and she couldn't suppress the frisson of pleasure that sizzled up her spine.

Feeling slightly nonplussed she asked, "Are you all right?"

"Who, me? Yes, yes, yes, I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle. Right as rain." He grinned joyfully. "Thanks to the two of you."

"It was Ms. Smith who identified the link between the cardiotoxin and the House of Morbius, Doctor," said Romana generously.

"I knew she would," he replied, turning and bestowing a beatific smile on his former companion. "I knew you would. You were with me on Karn – you knew about Morbius and everything that took place there."

"But what happened to you, Doctor?" Sarah demanded. "We watched Morbius die on Karn."

His smile faded. "It's a long story. Not one really suited for standing around in a public corridor. Come on, let's go to the TARDIS. Romana will fix us some tea and we'll have a proper chin-wag."


	10. Chapter 9

And so they dutifully trooped off, following in the wake of the Doctor's vigorous stride. Although he was much shorter this go-round, Sarah reflected, he hadn't slowed down any and she found she still had to half-run to keep up. But at the same time she couldn't contain her delight at seeing him up and about and as lively as ever she remembered.

He ushered the two women into the TARDIS with all the grand formality of a courtly lord, pausing to pat the woodwork of the antiquated time ship fondly before following them inside and showing them to a settee nestled behind the console.

To Sarah's astonishment Romana actually did make them tea. "The Doctor's is always far too weak," was her pronouncement when she returned after a few moments carrying a tray that held a pot and three mismatched cups and saucers.

And so the tea – it was strong – was poured out and the milk and sugar added, and for a few moments the only sound in the room was the muted clink of porcelain as the hot beverages were sipped.

Finally Sarah could stand it no longer. "So what happened, Doctor?"

"What happened to what?" the Doctor said absently, stirring his tea.

"What happened to you?!" She had to grit her teeth in an effort not to shout. Sometimes trying to converse with him could be like talking to a four year old with an attention deficit disorder.

The Doctor's head rose. "Oh, I went to Kastoria to see a woman about a book."

Romana set down her cup. "Kastoria? Isn't that the ringed planet just beyond Karn in the Alzarian solar system?"

The Doctor sketched a bow in her direction. "Very good, Romana – you got it in one."

The Time Lady smiled. "Well, I always was rather good at astro-cartography," she said.

"Her name was Llanxia and she told me she was from the Sisterhood of Karn."

Romana frowned. "I thought the Sisterhood never left Karn."

"Not usually. But she said it was an emergency, and that the book could be terribly dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands."

"What book was it, Doctor?" Sarah queried.

"Not _'The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey'_," asked Romana worriedly.

The Doctor grinned. "No, not that one." He turned to Sarah. "My old friend Professor Chronotis brought that particular tome with him to Cambridge some time back. It turned out to be the key to the ancient Time Lord prison planet Shada, which a mad scientist called Skagra planned to use to free one of the inmates there and harness his mental powers. We had a right old time getting all that sorted out, didn't we, Romana."

The explanation didn't really leave Sarah any the wiser, but since that was an experience she was used to having around the Doctor she didn't let it faze her. "So what book was it?" she persisted, refusing to be distracted.

The Doctor glanced at Romana. "It was Morbius' diary."

The Time Lady gasped. "His diary!"

"Yes. Hand written on parchment and very carefully bound. I brought it back here to the TARDIS, and I'd just sat down and started to flip through it when I began to feel sick."

Romana nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "The poison was mostly likely in the ink, which rubbed off onto your fingers."

"Yes, that's what I thought," the Doctor agreed. "Only by that time it was too late."

"So Morbius set a trap for you, so that when you handled the diary you'd be poisoned," Sarah deduced.

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't think the poison was meant for me specifically, but for any Time Lord who might find it and try to discover it's secrets. So he – or Solon, more likely – used an ancient biochemical formula that was specific to his House and mixed it into the ink. Very neat, and very effective."

"And where it is now?" Romana asked practically.

He frowned at her. "You know, that's a good question. I'm not entirely sure. Somewhere here in the console room, I suppose." He looked about him as though he could conjure it out of thin air.

Romana stood and gazed around her at the haphazard piles of books covering every available surface. Honestly, this was nearly as bad as Professor Chronotis's library. "What does the book look like, Doctor?"

"Thick, pocket-sized, plain black cover," he replied, standing himself and running a hand through his unruly curls.

Romana sighed. Well, that certainly narrowed it down. "You're certain you were here in the console room?"

"Yes, yes…er, I think so. I was sitting over here – or perhaps it was over there…"

It was Sarah who found it in the end. "Doctor, Romana – over here." She was kneeling, peering under the settee on which they'd taken their tea. She pointed to a small volume that appeared to have slipped down behind the back of the piece of furniture. "Could this be it?"

"Very probably." The Doctor dashed over to the console and returned with what looked like a set of tongs. He reached under the settee, pinched the tome in the tongs and slid it towards him, taking care not to touch it with his bare hands. "Yes, Morbius' diary."

Still using the tongs he slipped the black-bound diary into a small satchel and then passed it to Romana, who accepted it gingerly.

"I'll take this to the Panopticon where we can safely study it." She cast an imperious look at the Doctor as he and Sarah settled themselves back onto the settee. "Promise me you won't go getting into any more trouble."

"Scouts honor," he replied, laughing up at her.

Romana rolled her eyes. "Yes, I've heard that before."


	11. Chapter 10

And then it was just the two of them.

Sarah stared at the Doctor, her tea cold and long forgotten. Instead her eyes continued to drink in his new form. In his green velvet jacket and cravat he looked every inch the proper Edwardian gentleman, but when it came to the Doctor Sarah was well aware of just precisely how deceiving appearances could be. Somehow she knew instinctively that there would be nothing proper about this one. She could see that from the captivating playfulness that danced in his eyes. And then there were the fine, lean fingers, the silky curls, the sensuous lips…

He shifted uncomfortably, staring into his own empty teacup. "I suppose I owe you an apology," he said finally.

"For what?" she asked, startled out of her contemplation.

"For just dropping into your life again after all these years."

_Oh. That._

He lifted a soulful gaze to hers. "I didn't know where else to go. You were the only one who knew about Morbius, and I could feel the toxin moving so quickly…I knew I wouldn't be able to make it all the way back here and still be lucid enough to explain what was happening. I wasn't sure if –" he stopped, looking suddenly vulnerable. "But you didn't forget..."

Sarah carefully balanced her teacup on a tall stack of books on the end table by her elbow as she fought back the tears that pricked the corners of her eyes. "No, Doctor," she said in a choked voice. How could he have imagined even for a moment that she might have forgotten him? How could he not know that he was so much a part of the fabric of her life, her soul? "I didn't forget."

"I'm sorry to have dragged you away from your home and family."

She sat very still for a moment, struggling for control. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him…that apart from her Aunt Lavinia he was the only family she'd ever had. To confront him with her lingering sense of abandonment and loss, as she had on that bittersweet night when she and his tenth self had sat together repairing K9 in the all-night café. It had been thirty years for her and so many regenerations for him, so much time apart when all she ever wanted was to spend her life at his side. The only place she had ever felt truly at home.

But she resisted the impulse. Somehow it wouldn't be fair to him. Not to this one, in whom she sensed a gentleness and shy vulnerability that would be deeply wounded by being on the receiving end of an unexpected emotional outburst. It would be cruel to do that to him, like kicking a cat. Especially after he'd just apologized to her. So instead she took a deliberately light tone and set a smile on her lips.

"It's all right, Doctor. I don't mind." That was an understatement if there ever was one. "And besides," the smile widened into a wicked grin, "I haven't exactly been leading a conventional life."

He grinned back. "Now why doesn't that surprise me. Adopting a child created by the Bane, making deals with the Slitheen, actually talking to your neighbors – "

"You heard all that?" she interrupted, startled.

"Yes, of course. I may have had a bit of a hearts problem but there's nothing wrong with my hearing."

Sarah rose from the settee, vaguely unsettled by the idea he actually remembered all the nonsense she had been spouting, and found herself looking down into a clear gaze that chased all of her petty concerns away. New body and all he was still her Doctor, and he was with her now – miraculously alive and well. Before she could stop herself she reached out with her fingers and tenderly brushed his curls, attempting to express her fondness in a way that she hoped wouldn't distance him from her. His previous selves had always so scoffed at human emotional attachments that she'd never found the courage to show how she felt for him in any other than the most platonic of ways.

He stood in a quick, smooth movement, standing scant inches away from her. Had it been anyone else it would have been an immediately annoying violation of her personal space, but this was the Doctor and she had always found his close presence welcome and intensely comforting. She could feel the coolness of his body next to hers and cocked her head, to find her eyes trapped by his powerful and concentrated stare.

"I've missed you, Sarah Jane," he said simply, and the quiet honesty that resonated in his voice took her breath away. Then he swept up her hands in his and pulled her into an embrace so fierce and warm that there was no mistaking the truth of his words.

Her mind went blank with astonished wonder. To hear those words that she had longed for, and doubted, and never imagined would ever pass his lips, loosened something deep within her. And suddenly it was as though all the bitterness she felt at having been unceremoniously dumped on Earth without a backward glance, all the anger at being ripped away from the magic and wonder of the universe and left to deal with tax bills and burnt toast, all the grief at having had to sweep up the shattered pieces of a broken heart, was washed away by the release of a tide of joyfulness so potent that the force of it rocked her to her core.

He held her close, their hearts beating in triple time, and gave her a squeeze. "Thank you." His cool breath tickled her ear.

"You're welcome," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his shoulder.

"You've always been my port in a storm," he murmured into her hair.

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard against the surge of emotions that his words caused to well up in her heart. Pride. Affection. Love. And laced through it all a feeling of belonging that she hadn't even known she'd lost until she'd found it again after all this time. She reveled in the feeling of his arms tight about her as the current of joy curled itself around her heart.

Never in her experience had the Doctor been such a romantic, and if she wasn't careful she could find herself falling in love with him all over again. She forced herself to release her hold and take a step back.

His fathomless blue eyes were inches from hers, eyes that seemed to penetrate all the way to the depths of her soul. He cleared his throat lightly. "So…where do we go from here?"

She slipped her hand into his. "Well, I've always wanted to see Gallifrey," she said with a shy smile.


	12. Chapter 11

The next morning, with the President's special dispensation and accompanied by the Castellan's armed guards, the Doctor took Sarah Jane on a tour of the Capitol. Valeria had organized a very specific itinerary of acceptable locales, but within ten minutes they'd shaken their escort and – laughing like errant schoolchildren – headed into the heart of the city. He took her to wander through the Library of the Architron, one of the twelve wonders of the universe that contained a copy of every single text in the space-time continuum, an edifice so massive in size that a dozen King's Cross stations could fit comfortably inside. He showed her the Academy rooms where he had studied as a boy, then to Sarah's enthrallment sat her amid the sweet smelling apple grass in the inner quadrangle and told her tales of his early life. He led her through the stately Beldaxon Imperial Gardens, where he wheedled a passerby out of some crumbs and together they fed the gawky, duck-like creatures that paddled in the pond beneath the great statue of Rassilon.

And as they walked through the city he held her hand.

By the time the Castellan herself caught up with them many hours later, bristling with rage and marching them back to the Citadel at gunpoint, Sarah was tired, footsore, thoroughly awed and utterly contented. Ever since she'd met the Doctor she'd wanted to see his home, to have a glimpse of the planet that had produced such an extraordinary, magical being. Despite his continuous protestations that it was the most boring place imaginable, she'd always imagined Gallifrey as a fairy-tale world, a sort of intellectual Xanadu – '_So twice five miles of fertile ground/With walls and towers were girdled round'… _What she found was something in between, a world of technological marvel almost beyond comprehension yet so deeply steeped in tradition and convention that it made places like Oxford and Cambridge seem positively avant-garde by comparison. It was no wonder the Doctor had never felt comfortable here.

The Doctor. She didn't know why she was surprised, but there was something different about being with him now. It wasn't just the obvious – he'd changed, and she certainly had. The passage of so much time had a tendency to do that to people. It had more to do with the way they were together. She wasn't as overawed by his personality as she had been in the past. And although his boyish exuberance could be a tad exhausting, there was now more of a companionable give and take between them, a warm and easy camaraderie that left her almost glowing with pleasure. Not to mention that just being with him when there wasn't some sort of world-ending crisis at hand was a luxury she never imaged she'd be able to experience.

She couldn't remember having been so shatteringly happy in years.


	13. Chapter 12

Romana awaited them in the Castellan's office, wondering what in the name of Rassilon she was going to do with the pair of them. Send them on their way, she supposed, before the entire High Council had collective apoplexy. Now that the Doctor was fully healed her colleagues weren't in the mood to tolerate an off-worlder's presence on Gallifrey much longer, especially after the mad stunt they'd pulled today.

"Doctor," she chided with affectionate exasperation as the Castellan grudgingly turned them over to her care, "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

"Give me a grape lolly and take me to the theatre?" he suggested, all innocence.

Sarah smothered a laugh.

Romana rounded on her severely. "And you, Ms. Smith! You should know better than to go gallivanting off, aiding and abetting a reckless miscreant with absolutely no sense of responsibility or decorum!" Like two carrots in a pod, they were, or whatever that quaint Earth phrase was.

Sarah just raised her eyebrows and shrugged, entirely unrepentant. In truth she probably should feel a tiny bit guilty for having taken advantage of the extraordinary amount of latitude Romana had already given her, but she simply couldn't summon the energy. Besides, she'd had entirely too much fun.

Romana sternly crossed her arms and her lightly scolding voice took on a suddenly serious tone. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask both of you to go."

The Doctor looked up sharply. He stared over Sarah's head at Romana. "It is time?" he asked quietly, sounding unusually subdued.

A knot of ice formed in the Time Lady's gut. She'd shared some of her visions of the future with him, and knew what he was asking. "No," she replied softly, trying to hide the trace of sadness in her eyes. "Not yet."

He nodded in understanding and relief. "Good."

"Time for what, Doctor?" Sarah asked, not having missed the rather cryptic exchange.

"Oh, it's just a Time Lord thing," he said offhandedly, with affected casualness.

Sarah groaned in exasperation. Some things apparently didn't change. Would he never stop treating her like a child, trying to keep things from her for her own good?

She glanced at Romana, hoping she might entice an explanation from the more mature and reasonable member of the duo. But the expression on the Time Lady's face had become so wearied and withdrawn that Sarah didn't have the heart to press the issue. Yet her investigative instincts were telling her that whatever was worrying Romana was tied in some way to the Doctor's loss of memory, the reason that his future self wouldn't even have the faintest recollection that they had spent – were spending – this time together on Gallifrey.

Something had happened between this incarnation and his tenth. Something so terrible that it had erased his recollection of any of these events ever taking place. She suddenly remembered his tenth self's words upon encountering her again in the Deffrey Vale gymnasium. _'I lived. Everyone else died. Everyone died, Sarah.'_ And that Krillitane, the headmaster Mr. Finch, had offered him the power to restore whole civilizations… '_Your own people, Doctor…the Time Lords - reborn.' _Obviously tempted the Doctor had whispered, _'I could save everyone. I could stop the war…'_

_Oh my god_. The realization hit her with the force of a blow. Was that what had happened – what was going to happen? A war that would destroy Gallifrey? The death of the Time Lords, leaving the Doctor all alone? If his eighth self would/had lived through that, well, such a trauma could doubtless be enough to wipe away his memories of what had come before.

Could his tenth self be the last of his kind, the sole survivor? Sarah shuddered. She couldn't think of anything more terrible. And it would certainly explain the extreme loneliness she had sensed in Rose's Doctor, the aching sadness she'd felt from him, his compassion at her loss of K9 in the school explosion. PTSD, on a cosmic scale.

She swallowed her horror, pasting a cheerful smile on her face. If she was correct in her deductions, then however much Romana and this Doctor already guessed about what was to come, she knew she mustn't do or say anything that might inadvertently reveal her foreknowledge to them.

Instead she said the first banal thing that came into her mind, asking Romana how long her return journey home would take.

"It shouldn't take longer than a few seconds. We've been using standard time vortex technology for millennia now, of course, but lately we've become rather good at long distance spaceo-temporal matter transduction," Romana said with evident pride.

Sarah pondered how queasy was that likely to make her. "Is that like a transmat?"

"More like teleportation. Nearly instantaneous matter transference."

"How boring. How terribly dull," the Doctor pronounced, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He shot Sarah a look full of energetic gusto. "Let's go by TARDIS, it's much more fun!"

"And about as reliable as a Parisian train," she retorted. She had responsibilities now, people who counted on her.

He looked stung. "That's not true! She's perfectly reliable – just gets a bit confused now and then."

"Doctor –"

"Ah, come on – come with me!" he wheedled excitedly, clasping her palms between his own. "You know you want to. There's still so much for me to show you, so much more for you to see!"

Sarah smiled. His enthusiasm was infectious, and he was right. She did want to. This past year had rekindled her zest for life, for adventure, and there was something about this incarnation – his ebullience, his roguish charm, his joie de vive – that left her utterly enthralled. She was torn between wanting to mother him and wanting to kiss him senseless.

Not to mention – this could be his last chance to have some happiness before…

She shoved the morbid thought aside. It would spoil the moment, and really, all that mattered to her now was that she was with him again, where she always longed to be. She spared another maternal thought for Luke, but he was out with Alan and Maria and wouldn't miss her for hours yet. And anyway she would be home – with luck – in time for tea.

"All right, Doctor," she found herself laughing. "Just this once more!"

"Yes!" Crowing, the Doctor lifted Sarah off her feet in an enormous hug, swinging her around in a circle before depositing her on the ground one more, giddy and breathless.

Romana watched the pair of them with a rueful smile playing at her lips. She wasn't envious, she told herself firmly as the Doctor pulled the TARDIS key from his waistcoat pocket, delight evident on his animated features. She wasn't envious, because there was one further thing that she had to do.

This was the most unpleasant onus of her position – being forced to carry out distasteful tasks in the service of her planet. In this case making Sarah Jane Smith, a friend of the Doctor's whom she had come to respect, forget the time she had spent here on Gallifrey.

She began to reach out with her mind to implant the seeds of forgetfulness in the human woman's brain. Subtly, so the Doctor wouldn't detect what she'd done. It was a little trick she'd learned from Professor Chronotis. It wouldn't hurt Ms. Smith in any way, merely to set a mental switch that would be triggered as soon as she returned to her home on Earth so that she would recall nothing between the time she walked out into her back garden and the time the TARDIS dematerialized behind her.

And then she hesitated. If Gallifrey were to be destroyed…if the unimaginable actually transpired…then across the universe for the remaining eons it would remain only in the memories of those who had read or heard the name, fading to no more than a legend, a hushed invocation spoken in reverence and awe. No one would recall the planet itself, the pale pink mountains rosy with dawn, the arching spires of the Citadel, the multicolored meteor showers that cascaded through the summer skies. No one but the Doctor. The lone survivor. To avoid forming a paradox, the very existence of Gallifrey itself would become tied to his timeline alone.

She wanted him – his future selves – to have one other person in the universe who also remembered Gallifrey, she thought fiercely and decisively. Not just the name, but the people and the place and the way it had been. She could do that for him. She would do it.

Withdrawing her mental presence, she took a step away from Sarah Jane and tried to summon her most carefree expression.

"You're sure you won't come with us, Romana?" the Doctor was asking. "Just one little trip?"

As always she was horribly tempted. "I can't, Doctor," she said, masking her regret behind a distancing posture. "You know I can't." She laced the words with pregnant meaning, a reminder to him that the future she had foreseen was looming ever closer. She would have to begin overseeing preparations now if Gallifrey, if the Doctor, was to have any chance at all.

"Spoilsport," the Doctor shot back petulantly, but without rancor. He wasn't nearly as certain as she was that the visions she'd been shown would inevitably come to pass. Not even all the time she'd spent with him had cured her of her tendency to take things far to seriously. Which, he supposed, made her an ideal President – and far better her than him. She would be vigilant, watchful, and make sure that Gallifrey was prepared if the forewarnings rumbling in the Matrix actually coalesced into a viable threat. And if she needed him then, he would come.

But meanwhile there were places to go, people to see, galaxies to save, the usual sorts of things. And to his unexpected joy, there was once again his best friend by his side with whom to share it all.

"Well, no time to waste standing around here," he said briskly. "We'll go to the Zaffrian Cluster first, I think, I've heard there's a red giant about to go supernova and it's going to be a magnificent sight. It'll form a new nebula – and disrupt space flight for light years around. Should be plenty of stranded travelers who can use our help…"

Sarah grinned at the Doctor, holding out her hand for the TARDIS key as he chattered animatedly on. One more grand adventure. How could she resist? And if, after all, he wouldn't remember it – well, then, she would just have to remember for them both.

FIN

6


End file.
